I wish I could say I've read the book, but I haven't.
I wonder if there's a chapter devoted to strikes, la grève?
Thanks to the strikes these past few weeks, I have a better understanding of why French women don't run around on treadmills like hamsters.
Of course they don't. It costs money; it's certainly not dignified; but more importantly, when the angry mobs take to the streets, everyday life becomes a workout.
Take this past week, for example. The bus depot was blocked 4/5 mornings this week -thank goodness I can walk! Starting off your day with a 2.5 mile speed walk to work, now that will wake you up. Carpe diem.
My early morning walks have also helped me develop other skills such as: dog poo night vision, avoiding panicky French motorists who pull onto the sidewalk when they spy a service station with gasoline (a rarity these days) at the last minute, and keeping my distance from rebel high schoolers pushing trashcans to add to their barricades.
I wish I were joking, but I can't make this up.
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